Fur and Fleas: A Misadventure
by Talking Bird
Summary: A oneshot about Sirius Black entailing a specific event of when he was his animal self.


**here's a oneshot that provides more insight on Sirius Black as an animagus. Please review, I love criticism, even when it's mean. well, enjoy!  
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from or related to the Harry Potter series.**

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I was named after a star.

When my mother held me for the first time, she visualized a superior boy, far better than the rest. A constellation of the night sky is perfect for a top-notch son.

_Sirius Black_

Mother's dreams didn't exactly work out I suppose.

I was named after a star. I grew up to be a raging infidel. God forbid if a Black doesn't become a dark wizard. In my mother's eyes, I was lower than a dog. Which is why fate decided it'd be funny for me to be an animagus.

This isn't really about my loony family though. I'd rather not keep record of their horrid misdeeds. Transforming into a wild dog isn't exactly the most glamorous parlor trick, but I swear, when I become my more or less alter ego, I'm more alive than I ever was when human. I don't know, it's something about being reduced to a simpler form…it really takes a huge load off your shoulders. A dog isn't judged. A dog doesn't have responsibilities. Dogs don't peer pressure each other. It's refreshing enjoying the fundamentals of life.

I'm far from young, I won't deny it. I've been on many adventures and trekked through perilous terrain in my life. I could probably write a book about it, and become a famous author. But I must bore you with one instance as my grim self that I don't think I could ever forget.

After I left home when I finished school, I had done a bit of traveling. It was less of a vacation and more of me seeing how far I could go on four legs. I returned to my human self as little as possible during that time. Only when I would start to forget humanity altogether, would I have to return to two legs for a bit.

I reached a very primitive village on the border of Bosnia. It was a very secluded town, completely disconnected from the outside world. It seemed quaint from afar. In the center of the village I found a little boy, not older than four or five. He was the thinnest little thing clutching his knees to his chest, quietly crying. His eyes darted all over in anxious caution. With great pity, I sat next to this poor boy and comforted him as best I could. With my head rested on his shoulder, he started to cry with even greater fervor. I continued to nuzzle as his arms outstretched and embraced my neck in a hug. He cried and cried into my chest. It seemed nothing would calm him. But at long last, he finally looked up with tear stained eyes, and with a sniffle said,

"You wouldn't like me as much if you knew what I am." I tilted my head in curiosity. The boy looked around to be sure no one was watching. "Look." And before my eyes, he morphed his face into my mirrored image. He returned to himself, and his hair grew at a rapid pace and turned blue. The boy was a metamorphmagus.

"Papa says I'm a demon," he said. "And now everyone's looking for me, so they can kill me…But I'm not a demon! I swear." He started to cry again, but I was too horrified to comfort him. These people wanted to kill a _little boy_. They were so separated from the rest of the world they had not realized the normalcy of magic…

Cries and shouts of a mob were heard in the distance. Exclamations like _"Toby!"_ and _"Where are you Toby!?"_ rose in volume as the angry crowd neared, and as fast as the came into earshot, the town's entire population surrounded this boy, Toby, and I. A man whom I assumed to be his father stepped forward to approach his demonic son.

"It's time to be cleansed of your evil nature Toby. Are you ready to ascend to heaven?"

"Papa, please, I'm not evil," Toby pleaded through tears. But it was hopeless to convince the entire town. His own father viciously grabbed Toby and presented him to the rest of the village. I could watch no more. As I walked away with my head down in shame, all I heard were the earsplitting screams of that poor young boy…

I think about him everyday. I remember and wish I had done something, or shown him that he wasn't a freak. But I didn't, and I'll always regret it.


End file.
